


Midnight Promises and Twilight Trauma

by CinnamonSeven



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Dipper Pines Needs A Hug, Family, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mabel Pines Needs A Hug, Minor Injuries, Nightmares, Post-Episode: s02e04 Sock Opera, Protective Stan Pines, Stan Pines is a Good Grunkle, THAT note from journal three, Trauma, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Uncle-Niece Relationship, bill cipher is an evil demon, get these kids some therapy, in this house we drink respecting stan juice, not pinecest, some people need to remember that, trauma has consequences, you all know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonSeven/pseuds/CinnamonSeven
Summary: In hindsight, Stan probably should've noticed something was wrong from the very beginning.In the aftermath of the so-called "Sock Opera", injuries are taken care of, trauma is acknowledged, and Stan would fight Hell itself to protect these kids.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines & Stan Pines, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 6
Kudos: 128





	Midnight Promises and Twilight Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, if canon won't do it, then I will.
> 
> Seriously though, I need group therapy for these characters for so many episodes. Since Disney is a coward and won't properly address the after effects of trauma, I'm gonna do it myself. I don't even care if this fandom is dead.

In hindsight, Stan probably should've noticed something was wrong from the very beginning.

Hell, he'd been dodging the supernatural of Gravity Falls for thirty years, learning about it so he didn't fall victim to the same bout of insanity that had claimed his twin. He'd read his brother's journal front to back for three decades, then he read the second one just as thoroughly once he snatched it from Gideon's sweaty little pig hands. Then his nephew had turned around and showed him the third, claiming he found it at the beginning of the summer and wanted to share. Stan photocopied and read it all that night, seeing more of the pieces come together. When he had free time, he even browsed through the little gremlins' additions.

But he'd seen Mabel and Dipper come hurtling from the sky (then who had been controlling the puppets?), rolling around and grappling at each other, he'd just pulled out his camera and thought of the profit.

Admittedly, Mabel's _"get out of my brother's body, you evil triangle!"_ was an odd addition, as was Dipper's mad raving about being 'a being of pure energy with no weakness', but they were kids with big imaginations. He hadn't really processed anything off until Dipper hit the ground, then sprung back up like he had just achieved something, and Mabel pulled out a remote and launched all of the pyrotechnics, which spiraled haphazardly all over the place, destroying the set and the puppets.

As the townsfolk stormed out, Stan moved towards the stage, eager to be out of there before the authorities inevitably showed up. He approached the twins as they fist-bumped, raising an eyebrow as Dipper winced, holding his limp hand, and saying something.

"Nothing a little sleep won't fix!" Mabel responded cheerfully. "Come on, bro-bro. Let's go home." She started off-stage towards Stan, Dipper dragging his feet after her.

"Seriously, I think I need to go to the hospital."

Stan swept in then, pocketing his camera. "Alright, great show. Let's split before the cops get here." He eyed Dipper as the kid stumbled at the first step, foot testing the next one afterwards. "What's the hold-up, kid? Don't tell me you're scared of stairs now."

He expected the kid to snark back, or glare at him, or even just flat-out ignore him. He _didn't_ expect Dipper's knees to suddenly buckle, pitching him forward, down the stairs. He swore and dove forward, his own knees cursing him as he just managed to stop the kid from slamming his head against the bottom stair or the floor.

"Dipper!" Mabel cried, grabbing his left arm. Dipper hissed immediately, trying to pull it close to his chest. "Grunkle Stan, I think he _does_ need a hospital."

Wendy knelt at his side, cautiously cradling his head, and instantly pulling away, her fingers red and her eyes wide. He could hear Soos gasp behind him.

Stan swallowed, standing with the boy still cradled in his arms, despite his weak protests. "Yeah. Hospital. Get in the car."

He'd never seen the three move faster.

* * *

It wasn't good. They had had to pull over twice on the way to the hospital for Dipper to vomit. Someone had to hold him each time, seeing as how he was too dizzy to keep himself from face-planting into his own mess. Once they finally got him into a doctor's care, questions started to raise within the con man's mind.

Fractured wrist, mild concussion, sleep deprivation, and dehydration were the worst.

Stan could just stare at the doctor as she told them. "The soft cast will need to stay on for a week. He's on a rehydration IV for right now, but we can take it out within the hour." She lifted a page on her clipboard and raised her eyes to Stan. "His explanations for these injuries were very vague, Mr. Pines. Falling down the stairs, kitchen accident. . . Can you confirm this?"

Something sick twisted in his gut. "He and his sister have been running crazy to put on this sock puppet show. When he wasn't helping her, he's always staying up late reading his mystery books. I didn't notice anything wrong until today." He swallowed the guilt in his throat. "I'd never hurt these kids, ma'am. You have to believe that."

She stared at him a moment longer before something softened in her eyes. "He'll need plenty of rest and fluids for the next week. Don't let him run around too much or sit in front of screens, alright?" She lowered the clipboard. "You can see him now. Take care of these kids."

"I will." He nodded and returned to the waiting room, where Mabel was waiting (he had convinced his employees to head home before it got dark, promising to call them with the results), chewing on the sleeve of her sweater anxiously. "We can go in now, sweetheart."

Mabel was off her chair and racing for the room in seconds, blowing past Stan. He followed her, shutting the door behind them. She was already at Dipper's side, thankfully able to stop herself from launching on top of him. "Hey-a, Dipping Sauce! Feeling any better?"

He groaned, cracking an eye open. "Mm'bl?"

"Close enough." Mabel reached for his un-casted hand, holding it loosely in her own, careful not to bump his IV. "You scared the heck outta me!"

Stan watched Dipper's foggy eyes stare at their touching hands for a second. Ever-so-slowly, they trailed up her arm and to her face. He squinted. "Mm. . . s-see me?"

Mabel's smile wavered, her fingers tightening on her brother's hand. "Yeah, bro-bro. I can see you. You're good."

Dipper seemed soothed by the answer and Stan was just about to ask what the hell was going on when his eyes landed on Dipper's arm. There were multiple small holes, clearly deep enough to have bled, with the skin around the irritated and slightly swollen. They had been washed, but dried blood was still crusted on a few on them. The four-in-a-row punctures seemed familiar, but he couldn't place where they could be from. It made him nauseous to think about.

"What the hel- _heck_ was that today?" Stan questioned, pinning them both with a stern look. "You two went at each other and now Dipper's. . . well, he's _here_. What possessed you to go psycho?" He noticed them flinch. What had he said wrong?

Mabel's gaze flickered from Dipper, back to Stan. "We, uh- I took Dipper's journal without asking and, uh, didn't help him even though I said I would." Her eyes moved back to her brother, a peculiar weight in them that Stan couldn't quite recognize. "It's my fault. I went too far."

Dipper stared at her, brows furrowed. Stan could practically sense the need for them to talk and sighed. "I'll go get you some water. Mabel, watch your brother. Make sure he doesn't add any more injuries to the bill, alright?"

"I'm- I'm sorry, Grunkle Stan," Dipper mumbled, remorse heavy in his words.

Stan rubbed his face. "Don't apologize, kid, just. . . don't do this again. You scared the crap out of m-. . . your sister." He waited a beat before turning to leave. He could hear them start talking as soon as the door shut behind him.

* * *

Stan paused outside the door, water in hand. Feeling only slightly guilty for eavesdropping, he turned up his hearing aid and leaned close.

"I just- I almost gave it to him, Dipper," Mabel was saying, sounding dangerously close to tears. "I held it out to him and almost let go. I almost let him _win_ and- and just for some stupid _boy!_ "

Dipper's voice cut in. "But you didn't, Mabel. You saved me and defeated Bill. You're a hero."

Something that sounded like a stifled sob escaped. "I - I didn't even notice that you were _possessed!_ He w-wasn't even _good_ at pretending to be- be you and his eyes w-were _yellow_ and I d-didn't even _notice!_ He _hurt_ you and I just r-ran off!" Mabel hiccupped, choking on another sob. "He t-turned you into a _puppet_ , and. . . What k-kind of sister - ?"

"Mabel, _stop_ ," Dipper instructed tiredly, soft but firm. "I was the one who was dumb enough to make a deal with him. It- I don't blame you. Everything turned out fine, right?"

"You're in the hospital," Mabel accused, her voice watery.

Stan could almost _hear_ Dipper's smile. "Nothing a little sleep won't fix."

The man took that as his cue to enter, pretending not to notice them both quickly wipe their eyes. "Man, this place is a maze. Need a map just to find the water." He set the water on the bedside table. "Alright, goofus, the doctor says you need to rest." He saw the boy open his mouth to protest, even as his eyelids were slipping shut. "Ah ah ah, no protests. You nap while I try to weasel a couple zeroes off the bill. Hopefully we'll be able to head home soon."

Mabel grinned, patting her brother's shoulder as his head lolled back onto the pillow. "Yeah! And the it's Nurse Mabel's turn to care for you!"

Dipper groaned lightly, eyes sliding shut. Stan pulled a chair up next to Mabel's and took a seat. He had lots of things to sort out that night.

* * *

Stan pulled out the photocopied edition of the third journal, flashes of pages flitting through his mind. The second journal was already pulled out, and he began thumbing through the well-worn pages of the third, searching for the page he had stared at for ages, but never heard anything about outside of the books.

His hands stilled at the manically scribbled out page, eyes staring at him in sporadic places and frantic warnings scrawled in thick red.

**'MY MUSE WAS A MONSTER'**

**'I WAS A PUPPET'**

Puppet, puppet. He kept hearing that word. Mabel's words from earlier swam into his head, unbidden; _"he turned you into a puppet"_.

Stan couldn't help but scowl down at the book. "What the hell have you kids gotten into?"

He flipped the next page and inhaled sharply. The blackened triangle with a single eye stared through him, sending chills down his spine. Blood splattered across the page, the explanation in the writing saying it came from the author's right eye after he had let the demon into his mind. The demon named Bill Cipher.

_"Get out of my brother's body, you evil triangle!"_

_"I'm a being of pure energy with no weakness!"_

_"I - I didn't even notice that you were_ possessed! _"_

_"You saved me and defeated Bill."_

_"I was the one who was dumb enough to make a deal with him."_

Stan sucked in a shuddering breath, covering his mouth. His eyes darted frantically over the page, soaking in the warnings and dangers. He turned the pages, able to see exactly when his brilliant brother had become a raving madman, terrified of the world around him. Pages and pages of fear, hallucinations, nightmares, torment by the demon, and growing insanity as he desperately tried to keep the creature away from him and out of his mind. All the way to the end of his writing, it was about Bill and the threat he posed.

The book hit the table and Stan stumbled out of the basement, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. His heart was pounding, his mind replaying the day over and over again. He downed a glass, then another. He was going for a third when he heard a sniffle from the living room. On instinct, he tensed and prepared for a fight because _someone had broken in_. Then he recognized the sound and made his way into the living room, catching the glimpse of brown hair behind the arm of the chair.

"You should be sleeping, kid," Stan commented lightly as he approached, not wanting to frighten the child.

Mabel's wide, bloodshot eyes peered over the arm. "G-Grunkle Stan?"

He gestured for her to climb onto the arm and seated himself in the chair. She wiped her eyes as she complied, her other hand clutching a crumpled piece of paper. "Usually it's your brother I have to coerce into bed. What's with the role swap?"

Her breath hitched; eyes squeezed shut as she clutched the paper to her chest. "N-Nothing, I. . ." Her eyes shot open, welling with fresh tears as she turned to Stan with more helplessness he had ever seen on her face. "He- He was gonna _kill_ him, Grunkle Stan," she whispered, her voice cracking. "He was g-gonna _kill_ him and- and I almost let it h-happen!" She dissolved into sobs, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Whoa, deep breaths, kiddo." Stan rubbed her back, pulling her closer even as his blood turned to ice. "What're you talking about?" _'Please be about anything else. A nightmare. A movie. Be about anything but_ that _.'_

With shaking hands, Mabel pushed the paper at him. He kept one arm around her and took the paper with the other, bringing it up to read it. With every word, his heart dropped further.

**'Note to self: Possessing people is hilarious! To think of all the sensations I've been missing out on - burning, stabbing, drowning. It's like a buffet tray of fun! Once I destroy that journal, I'll enjoy giving this body its grand finale - by throwing it off the water tower! Best of all, people will just think Pine Tree lost his mind, and his mental form with wander in the mindscape forever. Want to join him, Shooting Star?'**

Stan's fingers clenched around the note, crinkling the paper further. That- That _fucking demon_ had tricked his nephew, paraded around in his body, hurting it at every opportunity, planned to _kill him and frame it as suicide_ , then dared to offer the same treatment to his niece.

If that triangular bastard ever showed his face around Stan, he'd tear him apart - molecule by molecule.

But Mabel's shuddering shoulder and tears soaking his tank top pulled him back into reality. He needed to take care of his family first before he took care of Bill. "Hey, easy, sugarplum. Your nerdy brother's upstairs, asleep and alive, alright?" He set the note down to pull her into his lap, wrapping both arms around her. "He's tougher than he looks. He'll bounce back."

"He c-could've _died_ ," Mabel hiccupped, "and I would've let it happen."

Stan shushed her, smoothing her hair. "He _didn't_ die. You didn't _let_ him. You _saved_ him."

Her breaths shuddered and she gripped his shirt so tightly her hands shook. "B-Bill. . ."

"That one-eyed creep won't get to you ever again," Stan stopped her. "I swear."

As she relaxed in his hold, he knew he intended to keep that promise.

* * *

Honestly, as Stan paused in the doorway of the kitchen, he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

Dipper was underneath the table, against the wall with his knees pulled to his chest and his hand firmly clamped over his mouth. His eyes were glazed over, wide and haunted - far more than they should ever be at his age.

"Nice little fort you've got there," Stan called, slowly approaching. He frowned when he got no reaction, crouching in front of the table. "Dipper? Can you hear me, kid?"

The boy didn't so much as blink.

Stan sighed, lowering completely, and reaching out a hand. He wasn't stupid enough to touch the kid - he knew enough about panic attacks to not make it worse. Instead, he tapped his fingers rhythmically just in front of Dipper, setting a steady pace. "You know," he started, his voice low enough to still hear the tapping of his fingers, "I'll never understand where your sister gets the fabric for all those sweaters. And that one that lights up? How did she afford the wiring for that? Or learn how to do it? It's crazy."

He kept up the stream of soft, mindless chatter, his fingers never once stalling in their rhythm. It was several minutes before he got a reaction. Dipper blinked twice, his gaze shifting from endless nothing to Stan's fingers. His casted arm shifted, fingers resting on his shin and shakily starting to match the pace that Stan had set. After a few more minutes, Dipper took a deep, shuddering breath.

"You back with me, kiddo?" Stan stilled his fingers. A couple seconds passed, then Dipper slowly nodded. "Alright, that's good. Can you look at me?" A couple more seconds and Dipper's eyes jerked up, meeting his. "Good job. Wanna tell me what you're doing down here?"

His eyes widened further, and he pulled back, pressing closer to the wall as he started mumbling indiscernibly through his hand.

Stan held up a hand, cutting him off. "Take it easy, Dipper. I can't hear you through your hand." He watched the boy's eyes dart over his face. "Whatever it is, I'm not gonna be mad. I wanna help you."

Slowly, Dipper's hand lowered and he swallowed. "He- He's in my _head_ , Grunkle Stan and he- he won't _leave_." The hand moved up to tug at his tousled brown locks, eyes shooting to the floor, quickly glazing over again. "He k-keeps _tormenting_ me and- and k- _killing_ Mabel. . . He won't leave me alone- _I can't make him leave me alone!_ "

"Dipper, stop!" Stan's hand wrapped around Dipper's wrist, pulling it away from his hair. Thankfully, the touch seemed to ground the boy rather than rile him up.

He exhaled a shaky breath. "I - I'm _scared_. I'm scared to sleep," he whispered. It was a confession in a moment of vulnerability. Stan knew that Dipper would rather suffer alone than admit to being afraid - much less to his Grunkle. But now, he was just a kid. A scared kid, who desperately wanted help. "He's going to come back. He'll come back and- and what if he tricks me again? He was," he sucked in another breath, "he was going to k-kill me. He was going to _kill_ me, and he would've killed _Mabel_ too!"

Stan once again cursed the bastard demon in the back of his mind. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Listen, Dip, I can't take away your nightmares, as much as I wish I could. But Cipher only has power if you _let_ him have power." It was a testament to how shaken Dipper was that he didn't even react to Stan knowing about Bill. "You're alive. Mabel is alive. He didn't win."

"He'll- He'll be back," Dipper murmured.

"He probably will," Stan agreed, "but that creepy isosceles made a big mistake. He messed with _my_ family." Finally, he noticed something relax in the kid's eyes. "I won't let him hurt you again. Either of you."

Dipper met his eyes with a sort of pleading look, grasping for any sense of hope or security his great uncle could offer. "Promise?"

"Promise."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so tired. No one can stop me. I did not intend for this to be completely from Stan's pov but I guess it is. Sha-bam. I'm going to bed.


End file.
